Trivia Night
by usermechanics
Summary: Dia invites you over for some trivia, where the questions are exciting and the prizes are interesting, to say the least. [Contains femdom, smut, and the scariest thing to Critics United: 2nd Person! Dia/Reader, reader is of any gender but has a dick.]


Just for the record, you have no idea how this even happened.

You do remember that this whole thing started off when Dia called you. You met her in college and things kind of just went from there, and before you knew it, she was your girlfriend. You were lucky to have her, with elegance in each step and her flowing black hair. She was almost a model, turning heads on campus whenever she walked to class whether she be in winter or summer clothes. You were beside yourself when she asked you to be her girlfriend and immediately said yes. Maybe you two bonded over an assignment in a literature class; it's all a bit of a blur.

No matter how you met, she called you and told you that her sister was hanging out with one of her best friends and she wanted to do the same. She had the house to herself and she was interested in having you over for a game of idol trivia. It was easy enough; being with Dia for long enough meant that you knew idols front to back like she did, and in the blur of the time you spent with her countless lives and delayed viewings had occurred with you standing next to her, giving enthusiastic smiles which seemed beyond rare to anyone else in the school.

It was only trivia, you thought to yourself, but as things were with Dia, they were a bit of a blur. All that you really remember is that you started answering a lot of questions incorrectly and Dia was growing more frustrated with you each time you answered wrong. They were difficult questions, but what was more difficult was Dia, who thought the best way to make sure you learned these questions for good was some sort of reinforcement which involved being cuffed to a bedpost and your pants around your ankles.

It wasn't that long ago, but remembering things is really hard when your girlfriend is squeezing your balls. Maybe that's why everything's a blur.

"Next question!" Dia's smirk is unrelenting, almost as if she wanted to ask a question just as difficult as the previous few. A few taps on your balls send shivers through your spine, and your cock pulses in her hand. This happens so often that you're not sure why it's so shocking that you're growing more turned on with her sadistic streak. Maybe it was just the slight promise that you could be freed from her constriction if you answered this question right.

"What was the first song µ's performed?"

You know this one. You've seen the documentaries about µ's rise to popularity so many and remember everything about it, and you know that everyone who knows Dia even with passing familiarity has sat down with her to watch it per her request. You remember that they went by Muse even when it was just Honoka, Kotori, and Umi, and you say your answer. Even with all of the enthusiasm that you have for a bit of relief, your answer comes out as little more than a squeak.

"Start:Dash!" With those words, you could only hope that Dia would be nice enough to give you relief for even a moment. The tightness hurts, but you don't want your balls squeezed. You want Dia to respect you, even if it's just for a stupid game of trivia. You think you gave the right answer, and you hope that it's what Dia has on her mind for this question, too.

Your stomach drops as the tightness in your balls grows harsher, with Dia's stranglehold starting to legitimately cause pain. It wasn't a wave of pure discomfort washing through your veins and more a feeling like she was going to tug your entire dick off if you weren't careful with your next answer. Your vision is hazy, tear-stained from the pain, and you accept it only because Dia's the one who's doing it to you.

But if it was wrong, what did she want to hear?

"I was talking about Bokura no LIVE; Kimi to no LIFE! Borarara! How am I even your girlfriend without knowing this?"

With those words you couldn't give two shits about the fate of your balls. What you care about much more is that you can prove that you're better than that, that Dia should be proud to be your girlfriend. You struggle against the chains, trying to grind them against the bedpost like a metallic floss, but Dia squeezes tighter. She's not happy with it, and the pain that rides through your body forces you to stop.

"No getting out of those cuffs unless I tell you!"

It doesn't matter that Dia is slightly shorter than you; she seems meters taller than you when she spoke in that tone. It's a tone she never uses around her sister lest she starts crying. Even now, a few seconds after she spoke, you can feel your heart still dropping, as if it was dropped into a bottomless void. You need to get the next answer right or you know you would start to go crazy from Dia's relentless, ball-constricting hands.

"Who was the center for Loveless World?"

Any attempt to visualize the numerous lives you watched with Dia to remember who danced the center are for naught; all you can see when you close your eyes is the searing white of pain. You remember the song, though, and you remember who sang the solo for it. Eli sang the solo. Before you speak, you remember that this could be a trick question just like the question she just asked. You faintly remember something about Dia talking to you about the choreography and how Nozomi did a good job as the center.

But by center, did she mean the soloist? Are those one and the same? You think it's a trick question, and even though you know Dia once told you Nozomi centered, you know she's trying to trick you again. You answer.

Incorrectly.

"How dense do you have to be to think that Eli was the center? Haven't we been over this?"

She's yelling in your face about how she lobbed a softball of a question at you but considering how she's handling the balls in her hand, you're pretty certain she couldn't loft a ball no matter how softly she tried. As much as she complains about having friends like Mari who were touchy beyond societal norms you think that even Mari would be kinder to your cock. Everything hurts and you can't even feel your feet. All you can feel is that tight leather grip that's hellbent on making sure you feel nothing but pain.

And it's working.

"Next question!"

The pain's ringing in your ears and makes your vision hazy. How are you supposed to expectedly know what she's saying? Certain words pop out, like idol names and songs, but the concepts she's questioning you on make no sense. It's almost like the first time you've heard anyone speak Japanese, and you're being expected to wax lyrically about poetry from the Edo period.

You ask for the question again, and she asks it again, a bit louder so it's audible over the ringing in your ears.

"Who was the first Love Live winner?"

This question is easy enough that if you got it wrong you wouldn't blame Dia for immediately breaking up with you, tearing your cock off, or both. Maybe she did it out of gratitude; you scan her face to see if there's any guilt in her eyes from how harshly she's been using you for however long this trivia night has gone on. You can't tell; seconds feel like days and you could have been here for a year.

If you had been here for a year, your new year's fortune would spell out great things.

"A-Rise!"

Dia let go.

Well, she doesn't necessarily let go of your cock, but with how harshly she had been squeezing it before, it's easy to say that she did. Instead of her fingers being taut against your sack, it was like she dangled her fingers against it, giving it almost a massaging caress. It was a lot nicer than answering incorrectly, and finally having a moment away from the brink of pure pain flowing through your veins is a nice feeling. On instinct, you speak.

"Thank you, Dia-san!"

It wasn't loud, certainly not loud enough for Dia to hear; maybe the words ring clear to you because you're finally freed from the burden of pain. Either that, or Dia is busy thinking up a new question, one which is slightly more difficult to answer. You've proven that you're able to answer idol questions, and now that you're more or less freed from restraint, you could only hope that in answering more questions, Dia could provide something more.

"You're so cute when you're grateful."

Whether or not Dia heard you or not doesn't matter because she can easily read the adoration on your face. Either way, you feel a warmth spreading through you, one which wasn't caused by the nagging ache of tightly-shackled balls. Dia called you cute. She's never one to compliment like that unless you were her younger sister. Her voice is almost that of when she talked about Ruby in a positive light, too. Your heart's melting at her warming smile, and you're willing to forgive the excess of minutes she manhandled you like she wanted your death.

It makes the whole ordeal that much sweeter.

"Which member of Muse has the second most amount of center placements?"

You then immediately remember that Dia could have a Ph.D. in idols with a thesis which she'd need no additional research. Dumb luck is the only way you could answer it correctly, but you do know that it can't be Honoka, or Nozomi or Eli or Maki. Eli, especially, isn't the answer: you could remember that Dia complained about how she had only three songs she centered on even though she had the best voice. You spin the wheel in your head of all the people you think are eligible and you let out your answer, praying that it won't end up with more damage to your groin.

"Kotori?"

After a few seconds of silence, Dia sits upright, her hands making quick work of the buttons on her shirt. With each that goes down, you see more of her skin, flawlessly unmarked. Moderate collegiate exercise is prominent, her slim build mouth-watering and perfectly feminine. You wish you could lean forward to touch or kiss, but your shackles hold you in place. As she shrugs the shirt off, you realize that her being topless, bar her lacy red bra, is your reward for somehow getting this question correct.

With it, the game shifts. It becomes less about not being wrong as much as it becomes an exercise in getting all the questions right. Dia's fun with torturing your balls has ended and, in all the fondling, she has grown excited.

But, just to make sure:

"Dia-san," you question, "is there any reason you took off your shirt?"

Dia's lower eyelid twitches. Then, a finger reaches up to her beauty mark. "Of course not. It's not like teasing you like this has been turning me on or anything…"

You remember that you entered a dive shop with Dia once and, after a few questions about you going out with her, the clerk saying that she wasn't good at keeping secrets at all. The clerk was beyond right in that regard: maybe Dia is trying to throw an insult towards your intelligence, but she is very much interested in getting further into this, beyond the point of just fondling and squeezing. Of course, there are rewards at stake. You can't smack your face because of the handcuffs, but the look of dumbfounded realization seals the deal.

Dia's horny. You caused it. Answer correctly, fuck her. Answer incorrectly, you'll get fucked.

"Can you take off the cuffs, then?"

Dia reaches down to your balls and slowly applies pressure until she sees discomfort in your eyes. "I'm the one asking questions here."

"Sorry," you squeak. The pressure's off your balls again and you feel liberated. Now you wait for her next question, one that you hope you could answer quickly.

"Who was the leader of BiBi?"

You wonder if Dia's messing with you. You're not sure if she talked more about Muse or BiBi on a daily basis, and a good reason for that was because of Eli. She'd bring it up in whatever conversation she could without any excuses except she loved her that much, and the amount of times you've heard her talk about how fantastic of a person Eli is makes this question beyond easy. You could answer it even if you didn't hear her question. You know all about BiBi because of Dia, the lyrics front to back, and who was the center for every track.

And, of course, you know who the center is.

"Eli."

Your eyes widen as you feel Dia's hands against your cock again, but the fear quickly fades as you feel her hands circulating around your shaft in loving strokes. She says a bunch of sweet nothings about how great you are and your cock's throbbing in her hands desperate for her to do a bit more. Instead, she uses your stiffened prick against you; pulling your foreskin back, she gives your head a soft squeeze and you whimper. It's not pain, but purely uncompromised pleasure in its purest form.

To emphasize the urgency of answering the next question right, Dia leans down, resting her cheek against your thigh. It seems almost manic of her to be giving you a blowjob immediately after the painful squeezes you've endured for the past ten minutes, but you're definitely not going to complain about it.

A lightning round might come up depending on how good your answer to this coming question is, and you're nervous because the moment those begin, it's impossible to answer anything coherently with how easily she makes work of your dick down her throat. You swallow the lump at the back of your tongue as you hear her next question.

"Who was µ's' costume designer?"

Usually when lightning rounds came up, your heart would race, and you didn't know what to answer and you'd be stuck with having to answer a few more questions before she went down on you. Today's different: she's being a lot more kind to you and it feels painfully obvious that she's feeling sorry for the abuse you've been put under. She's planning on kissing those issues away if you actually answer her correctly.

It was shameless, but you don't think Dia cares when she's in her impulsive mood. And you're not going to complain about it: why would you complain about your girlfriend sucking your dick?

"That's easy! Kotori was."

It's like listening to you answering idol trivia is Dia's biggest kink. At least, that's what the tight corners of her lips gave away moments before she leans back, parting her lips and pointing your dick towards the space between her lips. After a quick kiss to your glans, she spears herself with your dick, your tip rubbing up against the back of her throat while her mouth massages your shaft. Your back arches and your cock throbs in her mouth while you let out an aching moan.

Finally, she's around your dick, but from the times before this has happened, you know that you're not going to be successful just by staying there and letting Dia do all the work. No, this is the lightning round, and you know to start rattling off trivia.

With every word you let out of truth, you look down and see Dia's shifted up or down on your dick, and the feeling of her lips scraping against your shaft fills you with lewdness. Your hips buck back and forth, trying to get a bit more bang out of your words, but Dia's eyebrows furrow and you start feeling teeth. You stop immediately and try rattling off more advanced trivia, hoping that the harder the trivia is, the rougher she bobs her head. If listening things such as Hanayo's centering of Love marginal was enough to get her swirling her tongue around your tip with every pull backwards, one could only imagine what explaining the recording process of Garasu no Hanazono could be able to do.

It does wonders. Dia pulls away for a moment after a one-sided discussion about Storm in Lover and suddenly, your hands are freed and Dia's hair is in a high ponytail. After mentioning how it's like Eli's hairstyle, you're allowed to hold onto Dia's ponytail, and you use it as a handle to start fucking Dia's face. Her cheeks clap against your thighs as you let out that enraptured frustration about how she held your balls hostage for so long and you can see that Dia regrets the motion of freeing you. You slow down and act a bit gentler, and Dia's tongue responds in kind by lavishing your underside with slow, languorous strokes.

As precum drips from your tip and onto Dia's tongue, you feel Dia trying to pull herself off and you comply, only to be chained up once more so that you can't steal the final victories from her. You're nervous. You've definitely spent your best material during the lightning round to prolong Dia's lips around your shaft and now you're stuck hoping that the grand prize takes longer than the lightning round.

And Dia's not messing around with this final question. As you lay there with your hands up and behind a bedpost once more, Dia yanks down her skirt and panties and you see that she's absolutely drenched. Not only that, but she sits on your calves, making sure that you feel the warmth that's radiating from her core. She knows you want that warmth around your dick, but she's not going to give it to you until you prove yourself worthy of it. All you need now is to answer a few more questions, but you're scared that she's going to be answering questions that she herself might not know.

Fortunately, she's generous to you and she starts asking questions which even someone with rudimentary knowledge of the subject would know. She's asking questions about matching chorus lyrics to their songs, and the song that Honoka played for the graduating seniors at her school. They're too easy; you know she's wanting to fuck, and the pretense of trivia night's almost over. You know the answers, so you let them out proudly.

She's true to her word; whenever you answer a question, she moves in a bit closer, pressing just that much more into you as if readying herself to sit on your lap and have your cock deep within the confines of her pussy. You buck your hips up momentarily as she adjusts herself, ending up with her labia rubbing against the underside of your cock. Her smirk is evident, and you know she's messing with you, but you can't help but whine at the feeling of her pussy pulsing against your dick, leaking her readiness all over your groin.

All of a sudden, Dia's asking you questions while rolling her hips feverishly against you, questions which you can't answer without letting a groan slip out because of how fantastic it feels to have her against you like this. You're much less focused on trying to get the questions right and much more concerned that you'll accidentally cum before Dia lets herself be fucked by you. The humiliation of getting questions wrong during this session was bad enough: you know that Dia won't take you seriously as a mature idol fan like herself if you let it out early for weeks.

That's not going to happen, you say to yourself and power through the questions, even if it's difficult to understand them sometimes; not only are you focusing all your effort into not cumming all over Dia's thighs, you can't understand her because of all her moans between words. You respond in kind only because you can't do it otherwise, your twitching dick against her folds the only hope of bringing across the point that you're going to cum any second now and need somewhere to store your seed.

You don't know if Dia gives you sympathy for your cock's pain or she decided to finally take her needs out on you, but she lifts herself off your lap. She grabs the base of your cock, not to massage it, but to point it upwards so that she could line them up with her entrance. You take in the sight of Dia aligning your cock with her hole and whimper as you watch it disappear into Dia's lower body, wrapped tightly around her slippery walls.

After everything that's happened, you don't know how to feel. Dia's cunt always feels fantastic, but at the same time, you're beyond overstimulated by the "foreplay and roleplay" that started the night. You hiss instead, pushing your hips forward and almost knocking Dia off your lap. She squeezes your ass and hangs on, grinding her clit against your pubic bone.

Her moans are music to your ears until you realize that she's trying to ask a question. She pants it out poorly. You have no idea what she's saying but you ease up on your hip motions as if that would help Dia calm down. It doesn't; she keeps grinding herself against you, her walls squeezing viciously around your prick. You hiss, trying to keep calm as she rides you, pretending not to care about how fantastic it feels.

Instead, you observe. You take in the sights of Dia's reddening face and the wiggling of her hips against yours. You hear her moans and cries and the smacks of her ass against your thighs. She leans into you and you can smell the domination and virility coming off her skin. She tastes you, taking your clavicle hostage by the teeth and she nips just gently enough to make you moan. You feel her lips and teeth just as much as you feel Dia's juices leaking from her pussy and onto your balls. The feeling drives you mad but the restraints and her weight on your body make it nearly impossible to respond.

Her fingers climb up your back a tad, and you know it's for leverage. She's been on the pill for as long as you two have been together and you can tell by the glimmer in her eye, she's ready to abuse it. If your hips lack the energy to give her the ride of a lifetime-which isn't true; you just can't do much with her literally on top of you-then she'll give it to herself.

And give herself the ride of a lifetime she does. Her hips lift and barrel down your shaft so smoothly that you can only feel her pussy piercing itself with your dick over and over again. She moans whenever, and her breath is so hot against your skin that you can't help but join her. It's too much to handle; her pussy's wrapped around your dick and she's so tight and you can feel her walls scraping against your shaft whenever she moves. Your hips eagerly try to join in on the movements, but Dia's too overbearingly fast for you to even consider taking a lead. You can't even touch her or tickle her clit.

Alas, just when you think that she's done with the trivia game and everything, she slips off your twitching prick. The air around you could be as hot as the Sun and you would consider it to be cold. She's crab-walking away from you and after a few steps she settles herself down by putting her hips in the air and her shoulder blades on the ground. In your glance is her pussy; as pink and puffy as it felt around your cock, leaking out her juices. She's obviously needy and you can tell that she's getting off to your whimpers.

"One final question…"

Your chains rattle as you try to reach forward and give Dia the cunnilingus equivalent of the riot act. You want to give her a lesson about how unfair this teasing is as much as you want to taste her. You silently commend her for thinking ahead, but still in your mind, you can't help but ask the question: are you fucking kidding me?

"What was the name of the subunit I was in?"

Hopping off when she did is nothing compared to being asked that question. You probably expect the next question to be something along the lines of what Dia's name is or something to that effect. It's not even a trick question: she's talked a lot about how she was an idol herself during high school and…

"Which year?"

"When I was a senior."

"Azalea."

As quickly as she left, she's back on your cock, slamming her hips into yours with such fervor that you wonder if your hips are going to turn red from the abuse. You feel it all: your cock is suffocating in this heat and tightness, and the twitching is beyond painful. You feel your lust rushing through your entire lower body, but you don't care about if your legs go numb after a good fuck. Dia's all smiles as she's riding you, moaning and kissing your neck and shoulders and everything.

If the teasing since the beginning did anything for you and her, it is that you've become insanely sensitive from being her plaything, and you honestly can't help it. Your vision goes cloudy as you shoot strand after strand of thick semen directly into her pussy, not caring that she's not quite ready to cum yet. It feels too good to release to care; the wave of euphoria rushing through you as you spill your seed into your girlfriend is far too much to outweigh any costs that may arise.

At least, that's what you think.

Your cock grows limp after your orgasm but Dia doesn't care. She's still waiting for her turn to cum and you're not going to substitute for fingers. She wants to cum using your dick, and it's too bad that you're sensitive from cumming already. That didn't matter: Dia's still riding with the intensity that she's had since the start. All she gives you to recognize you came already is a slightly disappointed look in her eye.

It hurts more than you would think a disappointed glare could do.

Regardless of your feelings, she still rides, somehow finding the energy to move faster. You can feel your cum trickling down her walls and against the sides of your cock before realizing that you're getting harder again. You're twice as sensitive as before, but Dia breathed life into your dick with her cunt and you're genuinely impressed.

As you can tell by the look on her face, so is she.

Her face strains and her fingers dig into your shoulders before she lets out an earth-shaking moan, not caring about neighbors or the surrounding vicinity. All that she cares about is cumming, and she is quick to squeeze all around you, trying to milk you for all of your worth even though you have already. Still, your cock throbs in tandem with hers because you're just that sensitive, and as she lightens up on your shoulders and cock, she slips off you and undoes your handcuffs again.

You fall to the floor and wrap your arms around Dia, not caring about the semen leaking out of her folds and onto your cock. Gently, you shove it back in and scrape against her walls as you leave so the semen stays inside her. You're exhausted and she is, too, but the little whimper she gives when you insert it into her again to plug her is too satisfying.

"I must admit, you're really good with the trivia."

She leans into you, her chest against yours, and presses a kiss to your neck again. You hiss slightly because of her lips pressing against some teeth marks, but she shushes you instead with a kiss.

You tighten the hug a bit and give her a kiss back, but not before she bites at your lower lip.

"Maybe, someday, you can help me sharpen up on my trivia."

You laugh it off as much as she does, but it stirs the thoughts in your head of whenever that will happen. You swear to yourself that you're going to make her suffer as much as you suffered tonight.

"Maybe someday," you whisper back.


End file.
